


The Jack and Ianto Show

by Paycheckgurl



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood, WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - WandaVision, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Embedded Images, M/M, Major Character Undeath, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rift (Torchwood)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29611092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paycheckgurl/pseuds/Paycheckgurl
Summary: Jack and Ianto are a regular couple, living a quiet life, and trying to fit into the quaint Village of West Castle. Sure they're keeping the secret that Jack is an immortal time traveler from the future, with a fantastical machine called a vortex manipulator that can manipulate time and space around them, but they have much more pressing concerns. Such as strict bosses and nosy neighbors. Everything is perfect, a dream come true.And Jack is going to keep it that way.Please Stand By...
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 20
Kudos: 25





	The Jack and Ianto Show

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter or two will follow the WandaVision formula pretty closely (as in line for line in some spots), and then the exact events will veer off in a very Whoniverse way as it goes on. This is strictly a fusion and not a true crossover, so absolutely no prior knowledge of WandaVision or the larger MCU is required.

♫ _Oh a newly wed couple has moved to town_ ♫

♫ _A regular couple, what a sight_ ♫

♫ _Who left the city_ ♫

♫ _For a quiet life_ ♫

♫ _The Jack and Ianto Show!_ ♫

♫ _One is a time traveler that cannot die_ ♫

♫ _The other looks strapping in_ ♫

♫ _A suit and tie_ ♫

_The Jack and Ianto Show!_

__

The living room was flat and lacked colour. Practically monochrome. Jack made a mental note to spruce it up one of these days. Bring some more life to it. 

Ianto was sitting on the couch in his suit. That was normal, Ianto wore suits. It was just how Ianto was. It was reality. His reality.

Not longer after Ianto entered the kitchen with its double oven and the boxy refrigerator, ready for the day. On the counter sat a particularly impressive coffee maker straight out of a telly ad. The best the 1950s had to offer. He made himself a cup of coffee. And then one for Jack. No one did coffee quite like Ianto Jones, that much Ianto was sure of. 

The sunny atmosphere was something that maybe others would find cloying. Maybe in another life Ianto himself would find it cloying. It would remind him too much of time spent somewhere else...somewhere on the tip of his tongue he couldn’t quite reach. But right now, it was domestic bliss. It was his Serenity. 

He handed Jack his cup of coffee, and watched the growing appreciation on his face. 

“I’ve said it before but...wow.” 

“I would hope my coffee isn’t the only thing that’s _wow_ around here,” Ianto said with a raised eyebrow. 

Jack hugged him behind and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Oi,” he said with a bit of chuckle. “Mind the suit. Some of us have to get to work soon.”

“You can’t get rid of me,” teased Jack. “I’ll just keep coming back.” 

“You take my breath away,” said Ianto. 

“Oh would you look at that,” said Jack. “Someone’s written a heart on the calendar. Do you know why?” 

“Pfft. I know everything.” 

“Uh huh. So why’s there a heart then?” 

“Oh I know why. Do _you_ know why?” 

“Duh. It’s a very special occasion…”

“A special occasion…”

“Perhaps an evening…”

“Of great significance…”

“To us both!”

“Naturally.”

“Obviously.”

“Exactly. Well done, us,” said Ianto. “All right. Well, that’s me off to work, then. Don’t go forgetting all about me while I’ve gone.”

“Oh Ianto Jones, I could never forget you. Not in a thousand years.” 

* * *

_Forget Your Troubles_

_Forget Temporary Solutions_

_Make Your Own Happiness_

_Travel to the Majestic Ski Slopes_

_Of Blind Summit_

_Postcode B67_

__

There was a knock on the door, as Jack sat on the couch. He got up and opened it, to find a woman on the other side holding a houseplant, presumably a welcome gift. She had black hair and serious features. A long face and defined cheekbones. Her hair was arranged in a trendy updo, although she was styled to be more an Ethel than a Lucy. The kind of person, by her dresscode anyway, that just screamed “wacky best friend and treasured sidekick”. 

“Hi I’m Melissa, your neighbor to the right,” she introduced herself. “My right, not yours. Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block. My mother-in-law was in town, so I wasn’t.”

Jack laughed at the old mother-in-law gag, but something was sitting strangely.

“Melissa. I think I’ve always liked that name.” He couldn’t help but to blink several times as he said that. There was something he wasn’t remembering just right. But then Melissa, the woman at the door, stood there and was the very picture of the kind of best friend he needed right now. Someone quirky and fun. Someone that wouldn’t call him out excessively and instead let him enjoy the now. Someone that would always be right there, and wouldn’t leave him. Someone he didn’t need to think about leaving or disappointing. So he dismissed it all, and accepted what was in front of him. Melissa, his new neighbor. Okay. 

“So, what’s your name? Where are you from? And most importantly, how’s your bridge game, hon?” asked Melissa. 

Jack laughed. “Hello, Captain Jack Harkness,” he said with his usual flash smile. Jack’s introduction alone was the most effective line for a flirt in all of the universe. By the universe he meant of course the entire Village of West Castle.

“Oh aren’t you quite the charmer!” 

“My husband sure seems to think so.” 

“The good ones are always taken. That includes me, by the way. Jury’s still out on my husband though. _Oh that Ralph_.” 

Jack chuckled. 

“I don’t see a ring,” mused Melissa. 

“Oh well…I guess not...” 

Melissa stood there. Waiting. 

“But we are completely married. Most handsome Welshman you’ve ever seen. And that _accent._ Today is actually a special day for us. _As a matter of fact_ , he’ll be home later tonight for a special occasion. _Just the two of us_.” Jack shot her a bit of a wink. 

“A special occasion? Oh is it someone’s birthday?” 

“Uh no. I don’t really do birthdays and Ianto’s isn’t until…” 

“Well today isn’t a holiday, is it?”

“I guess not…”

“An anniversary, then?”

“Yes. That. It is absolutely an anniversary.” Hearts. Hearts on calendars for anniversaries. That had to be it. 

“How lovely! How many years?” 

“Oh, it feels like we’ve always been together.” Jack was usually a pretty smooth liar, he was certain. But as a result of not being able to answer the question straight on, he caught a bit of shakiness in his voice. Melissa evidently, hadn’t. 

“Do you have anything planned for tonight?” 

“No. Not really. We’re more the type to just wing it.” 

“Well I happen to have some magazines on the finer points of romance. You should woo that young man of yours off his feet!”

“Hmmm. I don’t think I have a problem ‘wooing’ him on my own. These magazines seem a bit...old fashioned.” 

“Nonsense! The best romance advice the decade has to offer! You’re an old fashioned sort of guy, Jack, welcome to the 50s.” 

“I wouldn’t say I’m that old fashioned. _Very_ far from it. I’ve always fancied myself a bit of a futurist.” 

“And you’re still dressed like you just got back from The War, Captain. You simply must get with the times...come on. Aren’t you the least bit curious to see what all these attractive young things say is the key to a young man’s heart?”

“Well I guess a peak can’t hurt...” 

* * *

_Time Lord Watches_

_The Master of All_

_Watch Makes_

_Made in the Swiss Alps_

_Watch Doctor_ _Approved_

__

—

♫ Or you don’t go out Friday night Yakety yak! ♫

♫ You just put on your coat and hat ♫

The music played throughout the office. Everyone was busy with files as the company logo loomed on a wall in the background. 

“Everything’s been filed,” said Ianto. 

“Gee willikers, that was fast! Hey, the music isn’t bothering you, is it, pal?”

“In terms of distraction from work, or the largely nonsensical nature of the lyrics?” Ianto was very opinionated about music. And most things, if he was honest. 

“The first one.”

“Ah no, thank you, Norm.”

“Wow, Jones,” commented Norm as he looked over his files. “You're the best archivist here at BuizCorp.” 

“Well I wouldn’t say the _best_ ,” said Ianto. “But I’m rather good at...actually what is it we’re doing here?” 

“Whatever do you mean?” 

“What do we do here...exactly? Are we buying or selling something? Providing a service?” 

“We archive and we file.” 

“Okay, but archive, what exactly? What are we filing for?”

“What are the files for? For filing Jones. Keep up.”

“Right...that answers my question,” he muttered sarcastically. 

“Hey! What’s got your feathers all ruffled?”

“Sorry. It’s just Jack, my husband. We’re supposed to be celebrating something tonight and I don’t really remember exactly what. I just know it’s important.” 

“Look alert,” said MacDonald from behind them. “Boss is coming.” 

“Mr. Hart!” greeted MacDonald. 

A rush of things came to Ianto’s mind at once. That the heart was an abbreviation and he now knew he was meant to be hosting dinner with Mr. Hart tonight. That he should have maybe prepared something. That he should come up with a strategy. None of these were what he voiced. What he voiced was: “That’s seriously his name? _Come on.”_

“What’s wrong with his name?” asked Norm.

“Nothing...I don’t know why I said that…” Weird. Ianto legitimately didn’t know what was wrong with the name Hart, why it made want to fight something (or perhaps someone). That the something or someone wasn’t his boss, the Mr. Hart in front of him. But another unknown entity he wouldn’t hesitate to punch on sight. 

“I heard that, Jones,” said Mr. Hart. _Yikes._

“Uh. Sorry. Mr. Hart I assure you my husband and I are absolutely looking forward to our dinner with you and your wife tonight.” he said, smoothing the faux pas over. 

“Dinner better be speculator Jones. Either you’ll have a bright future here, or you’ll end up like Smith over there. He gave in to that Soho Beatnik leaning.” 

“I wore a turtleneck,” said Smith pathetically. 

“And that terrible presentation.” 

“The wife thought five courses would be sufficient.” 

“To say nothing of the entertainment.” 

“It was a string quartet!” 

Smith continued to pack his box, as his failed dinner had evidently led to his termination. Poor sod, thought Ianto. In his own head and absolutely not out loud this time. 

“Dinner better be amazing, Jones. Or you’re fired.” 

Ianto gulped. “Of course, Sir.” 

* * *

Jack and Melissa read through the magazines together. 

“These tips are hilarious,” said Jack with a deep laugh. 

_“Hilarious?_ I would say they were downright romantic!”

“I’m pretty sure if I tripped and swooned into Ianto’s arms on purpose, he’d drop me, on purpose. And I’d absolutely deserve it.” 

“Well yes, maybe not that one. But this one about spontaneity, that’s certainly pretty swell, isn’t it?” 

“Spontaneity. I guess I can run with that. Ianto’s kind of into routines but he does like to be swept off his feet...metaphorically.”

Jack looked down at a headline that seemed almost suspiciously apt for his situation. “ _‘Dinner Dates: The Perfect Anniversary Solution_ ,” he read aloud. “Huh. I bet I can make us a reservation for tonight! He’ll love it and I won’t have to cook.”

“Now that is a plan if I’ve ever heard one,” said Melissa. 

She was so supportive, that one. 

* * *

Ianto put in a phone call to Jack on his office phone. Now that he knew what this was all about he had to be certain that planning was underway. 

“Jack about tonight...” began Ianto. 

“No need to worry about tonight, I’ve got everything under control,” said Jack. 

“Oh that’s so good to hear. To be honest I feel like pressure is mounting for this to be absolutely perfect.” 

“Ianto. You shouldn’t have to worry like that. Even if it’s not perfect, it’ll still be a great night.” 

“Jack. No. I really need tonight to be as amazing as possible. Dinner has to be…”

“Hey. I told you I had it under control. Dinner is going to be like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.” 

“Good and uh entertainment?” 

“Trust me, I’ve got that covered,” said Jack. His voice had a particular flirtatious tenor to it. He suspected Ianto was too strung up to notice. 

“This just has to go well. If it doesn't...well...I think it could all be over.”

“What?! That seems a tad dramatic.” 

“Not in this case, Jack.”

Jack eyed the romance magazines Melissa continued to flip through. Trite as they were…maybe it was time for a (very, very, very) old dog to try some new tricks. 

* * *

The lights were off in the Harkness-Jones residence when the door opened. Instead there was atmospheric candlelight. Jack decided to spring his surprise on Ianto. He placed his hands over Ianto's eyes. 

The light turned on. Revealing that Jack’s hands were not over Ianto’s eyes...but a woman’s. 

And Jack was dressed in nothing but a pair of red pants — the British definition of pants. 

“What is the meaning of this Jones!”

“Mr. Hart. My most wonderful, esteemed boss,” Ianto said dripping with a strengthening South Wales Valleys accent, “and Mrs. Hart. My husband, Jack, is _American._ He’s prepared you the traditional greeting of... _Wisconsin_. Complete with...styles...that haven’t quite hit this side of the pond yet.” 

_“Wisconsin,”_ Jack mouthed back in disbelief.

“Oh that’s so worldly! I’ve always wanted to go to America!” exclaimed Mrs. Hart. “Is Wisconsin close to New York?” 

“No,” said Ianto. 

“Sure,” said Jack at the same time. The Harts stared at them. 

“It’s not but it can be with...Jet engines,” said Ianto. 

Mr. Hart did not seem pleased. 

“I need to help my Dear Husband with something in the kitchen. Please make yourselves at home.” 

Jack found he was practically dragged through the kitchen door. 

* * *

“Okay. Not that I don’t appreciate how amazing you look right now, what was that? And where’s dinner?” 

“Who are those people?” asked Jack. 

“Never mind that, what are you wearing?” 

“Why are they here?” 

“ _What are you wearing_?” asked Ianto again. 

“Well, it’s our anniversary”!

“Our anniversary of what?”

“Well, if you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you!”

“Jack,” said Ianto. “The heart on the calendar. It was an abbreviation. For Dinner. Here with my boss and his wife. Mr. Hart. They’re expecting a home cooked meal.” 

“Seriously, Hart?” said Jack with annoyance, seemingly apropos of nothing. “Nevermind. Look I booked us a reservation for two at Guillaume’s, the nicest restaurant in town. And also the only nice restaurant in town, but you know. Besides the point. I figured we could have a bit of romance here. Before heading over.” 

“That’s really sweet,” said Ianto. “But…”

“But your boss is expecting a home cooked meal. I can let the reservation be a no-show, but I don’t exactly have dinner ready to go. Looks like I've got a challenge to rise to. In the meantime it’s time for an outfit change.” 

Jack pressed a button on his vortex manipulator. The technology of the future time traveler sure did come in handy in times like these. And just like that he was dressed in his RAF uniform, including his trademark coat, and an even smarter addition of a little ascot and hat. 

* * *

“Does that strapping husband of yours need help in the kitchen, Mr. Jones?” asked Mrs. Hart. “I’m a dab hand with some appetizers myself.” 

“Oh no. Jack has it perfectly under control. So he tells me…” 

“We’ll hurry up Jones. We’ve nary been offered a cuppa or any entertainment….”

“I really should give your husband a hand,” said Mrs. Hart.

Ianto felt panic. Mrs. Hart absolutely could not see the state of the kitchen. Least of all if Jack was abusing future technology to make dinner happen quicker. 

Thinking fast, Ianto broke out into a soulful rendition of Yakity Yak that had Mrs. Hart clapping enthusiastically.

There. That was entertainment off the list then. 

* * *

Melissa came over with a picnic basket full of goodies through the back kitchen door. “What kind of house wife would I be if I didn’t have a gourmet meal for four just lying about the place? Well… Not that Ralph ever wants to eat anything but baked beans which explains a lot about his personal appeal, mind you. Oh, my!”

Melissa’s laugh was infectious and Jack felt himself flush with relief. 

“Oh you’re naughty,” he teased her. 

Melissa’s dinner kit included meat, potatoes, and seafood. Plus some flour for the start of a dessert. Jack examined it all. It included very detailed instructions for a dish that was complicated, but Jack was sure he could manage. Melissa offered to preheat the oven, but Jack sent her on her way, afraid the Harts might see her and start asking questions of why his neighbor was helping him prepare the meal. A meal that was supposed to be halfway done at this point. 

Halfway done. Well Jack could speed it along. The thing about being a time traveler from the future was that you got to play with future technology. And Jack had future technology to play with. The chicken would need to be cooked for far longer than he had time for. So by pressing the button on his vortex manipulator he’d speed up the process. 

Only, the process was sped up _too_ much. He ended up with a chicken burnt to a crisp. So he re-winded time to be focused solely on the chicken, once again. Only to go too far back and end up with a pile of eggs. Chicken, it seemed, was off the menu. 

He had the water boiling for the lobsters, at least. Lobsters. Lobsters were the mark of any fine dining. Fancy food. He was unaware when or of the lobsters seemed to get away from him. He tried to wrestle with the other one, but somehow it ended up out the window. Literally out the window. Okay, so no lobster. 

The oven door was open as Jack got up off the floor to try and catch the first dastardly lobster he spied. It was probably one of his more embarrassing deaths; he realized too soon he was directly under the oven door, and he’d slipped on some butter. He hit his head, and died from the blunt force in one of the most slapstick ways possible.

* * *

The Harts were getting restless. Ianto was running out of songs and ended up on call and response children’s nursery rhymes. Mrs. Hart was still at least a little entertained but Mr. Hart was simply not having it. And Mrs. Hart, entertained as was, was claiming to feel famished to the point of feeling lightheaded. 

“Oh I think I heard my husband calling me,” said Ianto. 

“I didn’t hear anything,” said Mr. Hart. 

“He was using his inside voice. Excuse me”.

* * *

Ianto ran his fingers through his hair and to the back of his neck in a panic. His husband was dead on the floor. He’d be dramatically waking up with a gasp any minute. There was still no food to be served. The Harts were eagerly waiting for Jack. 

Jack gasped loudly as Ianto held him in his arms. 

“Oh no. How much time did we lose?” 

“Not sure. But they’re getting pretty restless. Think it may be time to throw in the towel.” 

“Come on we’re Jack and Ianto. When have we ever quit? We’ve just got to improvise. Wait. The flour in the kit is giving me an idea. Ianto, put on a pot of coffee, I have a plan.” 

Ianto came out to the living room, where Mr. Hart’s testiness seemed to have won out. 

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing Jones,” began Mr. Hart. “But Dinner…”

“Is served,” said Jack triumphantly, emerging from the kitchen. 

Jack used the flour for pancakes. The eggs as a centerpiece. The potatoes were cooked as hashbrowns. 

“Breakfast for Dinner,” said Hart. “How very…”

“American!” supplied Mrs. Hart. "A proper American style breakfast. How charming!" 

“Of course to be topped off with more of the best coffee you’ve ever had,” said Jack, with a waggle of his eyebrows at Ianto’s direction. 

“Oh. Oh wow that is quite amazing,” said Mr. Hart. 

“I try my best,” said Ianto. 

“So what’s your story?” asked Mrs. Hart. 

“Our story?” asked Ianto. 

“Where did you move from? Why no kids? What’s Jack Captain of? When did you get married?” asked Mr. Hart.

“Oh we…” began Ianto. 

“We uh…” said Jack. 

“Oh hush now,” said Mrs. Hart. “Can’t you see they’re setting up story together for us.” 

Jack and Ianto looked at each, silently communicating that neither had the faintest idea how to even begin to answer to that. 

“We...well we…” tried Ianto. 

Mr. Hart took a bite of his bacon and pancakes. And choked. Mrs. Hart didn’t seem to notice and instead laughed as if she was responding to the cue of something else. 

Mrs. Hart laughed and laughed as if stuck on rewind. Rewind. Rewind…STUCK

The choking continued. Hart was on the floor. He was dying.

“Help him," said Jack amidst Mrs. Hart's increasingly unsettled and of sync laughs. "Help him, Ianto.” 

Jack pressed a button on his vortex manipulator. Everyone froze into place. 

Ianto performed CPR on the frozen Mr. Hart. The world felt like static on an old TV set. And everything was back to normal. 

“I feel like I missed a step there,” said Ianto. 

“JONES, that was a fine dinner you put together there. You have a bright future ahead of you.” 

“Oh…” said Ianto. “Thank you, sir.” 

“Let’s talk about a promotion tomorrow.” 

Mrs. Hart put her hands over Jack’s eye. “This guest is saying goodbye!” she said. “And wants to thank you for dinner!” 

As they left a lobster hung outside the door. “What a charming door knocker,” commented Mrs. Hart. 

Jack and Ianto collapsed on the couch together. They held each other close and laughed. 

“We are an unusual couple…” began Jack. “I know you don’t really like that word…”

“We’re married, I can maybe put up with it. But how do you mean, ‘unusual?’”

“We don’t know how we got here, exactly how long we’ve been together, we don’t have a song, or an anniversary…”

“We so have a song. Our song is Yakety Yak.” 

Jack laughed. “Petition to workshop that.” 

“This could be our anniversary,” said Ianto. 

“Anniversary of what? The time I almost screwed up dinner with your boss?” 

“Height of romance,” said Ianto. 

“We don’t have rings,” said Jack. 

“You could make us some,” said Ianto. 

There were two pieces of coal sitting by the fireplace. Jack pressed his vortex manipulator and manipulated them to glimmering stone, having sped up time to when the coal had become pressed down to a gem. He pressed another button to shape the hard stone into irredentist wedding bands. His vortex manipulator simply had so many functions. 

“There,” said Ianto. “Now we have rings.” 

He placed one on Jack's hand. 

"I do," said Jack. 

Jack placed one Ianto's finger. "I do too," said Ianto. 

“We haven’t had a proper wedding. A first dance…”

“Jack that doesn’t matter. I love you, and want to spend my life with you. I will spend the rest of my life with you.” 

“I love you too,” it was an honest declaration, said without trepidation. Because that was one thing Jack Harkness was sure of. He loved Ianto Jones. 

_Up Next...Walt Disney Presents. On this episode: The Three Little Pigs._

_Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?_

__

**_Please Stand By..._ **


End file.
